Colonizers Write About Flowers. I Tell You About Children Throwing Rocks At Israeli Tanks Seconds Before

Looking through old photos and I found one of my junior homecoming dance. It was the night after my dad's funeral. My friend who'd stayed with me the entire week, in my bed, through all the tears, made me get out of bed that night. She pulled my shirt up over my head and told me to get in the shower. She washed my hair for me. She curled it. She rubbed foundation onto my face, lined my eyes, and put me in my dress.

She contacted my other friends who were feeling awkward and unsure of what to do and told them the party was still on, to meet at my house for photos before the dance.

They all showed up, and I went to the dance, and we all screamed and cried, and I took my first step to healing.

I haven't spoken to that girl in five years. Nothing happened. I moved away. She fell in love. We grew apart and into our own lives.

It's strikes me how beautiful the ephermeral nature of teenage friendships can be.

We may not need each other now, but there was a time when I needed her more than anyone. And sometimes she needed me.

And the universe put us together just then. Just when it was most important. Not a year too late or too soon. The same town, the same school, the same classroom where we could meet. Right when it mattered.

We come and go from people's lives every day, and along the way we may get a chance to love someone fully, just for a little while.

I'll remember every single one.

Reading a book that was released more than five years ago and coming here on Tumblr to talk about it is like coming to the party so late that you missed even the after-party of said party and now everything that's left are a few fanarts you stumble upon by almost lucky accident and someone tumbleweeds of posts long forgotten.

“Let us live for each other and for happiness; let us seek peace in our dear home, near the inland murmur of streams, and the gracious waving of trees, the beauteous vesture of earth, and sublime pageantry of the skies. Let us leave ‘life,’ that we may live.”

— Mary Shelley, “The Last Man”

WINTER

The grey skies take over, fuzziness endures 

Staying by the fire could be helpful 

Just don’t mourn over the storm;

As you sit, gazing at the warm fire

You know you are still cold 

From the protection of  The lonely winter.

Regrets from a princess,

Or a knight

Let’s call it a night.

My heart beckons me to your every call.

It races, it leaps, frolicking in some poisonous daises.

Why doesn’t it know any better?

Each day is a lesson learned

Each day is a prayer earned.

My hatred for syrup is the same as my feelings- a sticky situation that i can’t get myself out of.

I want to cry

And i cry.

I’m angry

Again.

I’m let down

Again

CAST the sails and reel the anchors

You reached land

You’ve conquered it, it’s yours now

Just once

Cast the sails again, will you make this

Foreign land your home?

Or will kisses be bombed away with

Gentle intentions?

Could you forget about this island

And perhaps find a better one?

For there isn’t much fruit to bare

And the leaves quake quite

Frequently, those wolves will howl

And those bees will sting.

But you could bring peace and let it be.

So you’ve conquered it.

I believe there’s more than one soulmate for everyone,

Ten fingers and ten toes

I believe I met one of my soulmates

I believe it from the way he likes my nose

However, it is not our time

We know that is just the way it goes,

Writing letters of love in the dark

Vowing to save our bond for another day

its mary shelley summer

my heart is a ripe fruit rotting in my chest

i saw a post on twitter by a european saying americans are fake for their random compliments to strangers and their general cheery demeanor and like no. no no no you don’t understand. if you get a random compliment from an american on the street about your outfit or whatever, that is 100% genuine. we mean it. we aren’t lying we are making a small but fleeting connection with you because our lives are shitty but the human condition is enduring. oh god i’m clutching my chest